


Cam's Faith

by SarieVenea



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: A Smidge of Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Questioning, Religious Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:51:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarieVenea/pseuds/SarieVenea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot thought about the words Cameron spoke during "Babylon" about faith. What does Cam place his faith in? Originally posted on ff.net in May, 2006.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cam's Faith

 

Cameron nodded at the man who swept the stones that made up the floor of the foyer. He pushed through the heavy doors, the creaking a protest to his entry. His steps sounded hollow, echoing in the wide space. The ceiling was high, long windows stretching up to the arches. Colored glass shimmered across the floor under his feet, the wood on the pews that lined the vast sanctuary glowing rich with age and polish. Cameron looked up, squinting slightly. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the canvas jacket shrugged back over his light blue shirt. He blew a breath out, his eyes moving to the simple, elegant front of the church. A cross of inlaid wood caught his gaze.

 

He stopped, halfway down the aisle. The silence was holy, filled with a history of prayer and faith.

' _Faith. It was your faith that sustained you for five thousand years. Don't throw your history away for a bag of magic tricks.'_

He had spoken out of desperation to keep the Sodan from following a false path. He wasn't sure if he believed his own words.

' _We have never needed proof of our gods' existence to believe in them.'_

Faith. Did he have it? His grandma prayed over every meal, at morning and evening. She had no idea of the danger he now placed himself in every day, danger bigger than she'd ever be able to imagine. Science was the only rule in his life, the sheer improbabilities he experienced every time he was dematerialized and sent billions of miles away through a theoretical wormhole leaving no room for the possibility of a higher being. And the higher beings he did know were not gods. Daniel Jackson made that very clear. So the only place he could place his trust was in himself and in his team.

The silence that spun fine cloth around his heart was heavy and he stepped forward again. The second pew from the front was cool and smooth under his hand. He slipped into the seat, leaning forward on his elbows. The gentle light that flooded the church was soothing and quiet. He sighed, dropping his head into his hands and scrubbing his hands through his hair. The last mission was brutal, leaving Sam in trembling tears, Daniel in the infirmary fighting for his life, and Teal'c retreating into himself again. Cameron felt the aches deep in his body and mind. He hadn't slept in several days, or so it felt, and what was supposedly rest was spent in the chair next the latest wounded teammate's bed, with Sam curled in the next one and Teal'c at the door.

Daniel was shot several times, the amount of blood he left back on the planet of Ori-fueled and Earth-weaponed Jaffa frightening. The guns had been loaned to the Jaffa during the fight against the Goa'uld, and now had been turned against SG-1. The machine gun had nearly cut the archeologist in half, Dr. Lam giving the team a look upon their return that they never wanted to receive again. They ran through the gate, Daniel propped against Mitchell with one arm clinging to his CO's neck as Cameron pressed soaked bandages against his stomach and chest, Teal'c and Sam laying cover fire.

Cam shook his head, trying to get rid of the memories. He rubbed at his hands, the feel of blood soaking through his skin. The quiet echoed softly again, and he looked up. A window was spilling colored light across the stones around the cross as the sun moved towards the west.

Faith.

It had taken faith to get to the gate, to keep Jackson alive and to keep Sam, Teal'c, or himself from getting shot. But faith in what? God? This holy place? His own brand of luck, drive, and stubbornness? In the sheer audacity of Teal'c, standing up and firing directly at the Jaffa with no concern for his own skin? The focused intelligence of Sam, who re-wired the broken DHD while getting shot at? Or how about Daniel's apparent complete refusal to die as he stayed alert and on his feet while bleeding out? Or were the words he said with such conviction to the Sodanese leader just an attempt to keep from watching another planet fall to the Ori?

And, for that matter, how did he know that the Ori shouldn't be followed? Why was he so against the spread of their faith?

Several months ago he had sat in his apartment, sharing a beer with the characteristically tipsy Dr. Daniel Jackson. He had listened while Jackson described, in vivid, terrifying detail, the unchecked screams of the beautifully irrepressible Vala as she was burned to death at the Prior's order. He thought of the pain in Daniel's eyes when they realized that Vala was gone, saving their collective asses against a super threat. Of the disbelief they felt as they watched a planet of Jaffa turned into a black hole. The helplessness that radiated from Sam's body as she watched the physical impossibility of such an action disappearing. The Priors sacked world after world of their freedom, fueling the power of the Ori. They tried to wipe out his own people, for god's sake. And had a higher power stepped in then? Of course not.

Well, actually, Orlin. An ascended being, a higher-plane-person had saved the day in that case. Maybe some cosmic someone had gotten the clue that SG-1 was a tad too valuable to die from the flu. But was Orlin a god for such an action, noble as it may have been? Orlin was now in a care facility, unaware of anything but the next puzzle piece. He'd lost everything in order to save those he cared too much about. God was supposed to care deeply, and these Ancients, or Ascendeds, or Ori for that matter, seemed to care either for the wrong reason completely or not at all. They punished those who would intervene. Naked Jackson in a field, case in point.

Cameron took a deep breath. He stood, restless, unable to stop the questions. He thought he believed in something, yet none of it seemed to hold up to the shake-down he'd gotten the first time he stepped into a wormhole.

"Are you there? Anyone at all? There has got to be an explanation for this place. Something has to hold up to hundreds of years of faith, otherwise the walls would have fallen a long time ago." His harsh whisper seemed to drop like a stone into the glass windows, shattering the stillness. He took steps forward, his eyes searching the growing shadows of the church.

"I need to have faith, understand? I can't go through that hell of a deal again without it. Science or not, there has got to be something I can trust to never fall down."

Unbidden, three faces floated in front of his eyes. They were older than his, they'd seen more and been asked more than he, but they were far more worthy of his trust than anything he could find in this history. They'd proven that time and time again.

But faith.  _'Faith. It was your faith that sustained you for five thousand years. Not the Ancients themselves.'_  Not the Ancients themselves. Faith was not meant to be proven. He would trust his team, more than anything. His eyes widened slightly, realizing the difference between this trust and the faith he questioned. His faith was reserved for something more. Something indefinable. Unreasonable. Unproven. Something he would never understand, because that ungrounded belief was the unmistakable definition of faith. In that which cannot be seen.

Cam slipped his hands back into his pockets, standing before the symbol of the faith of two thousand years of history. His back was straight now, the tension in strength, not weakness and exhaustion. He tilted his head back, looking at the stained glass window.

"You know? I really don't know who's out there. I don't know who my grandma prays to. I'm guessing I don't need to, 'cause I'm gonna keep going through the gate, whether you're there to back me up or not. I don't really know."

He shrugged lightly, the silence wrapping around him again before he turned away. He left, nodding at the old man who stood watching him, heading for his car, driving to the mountain, finding his seat in the infirmary just as he'd left it, a smile for Carolyn Lam and the obligatory nod at Teal'c, touching Sam's hand and making sure it was warm, watching Jackson's chest and making sure it was moving. These things he was sure of, these things he would trust. But faith was bigger, and he didn't want to be sure of it. He didn't need to.


End file.
